Kiss And Fix
by nerd67
Summary: hurt!jean and saviour!marco :) Wanted to write a bit of an angsty fic which is out of character for me and it shows.. it got out of hand and became a fluff piece ;u; The world always needs more Jeanmarco fluff anyways 3 Its been years I think since I've written a fic so plz go easy on me 3 Would love comments/feedback!
1. Chapter 1

Jean was sobbing, scraped knees on the pavement, alone in a dark back alley. Pain shooting through his side with every breath he took, one eye swollen, cheeks bruised, blood dripping somewhere from his nose or lips. The air was grey and cold. He was cold. He vaguely wondered if they'd thrown his jacket in the snow nearby. They… A broken sound crawled out of Jean's throat and he sobbed again.

 _"Fucking faggot!" One of them growled, throwing Jean to the ground, kicking him in the ribs until a whine broke from Jean's throat and he tried not to cry. He couldn't tell who's limbs were who's anymore but fists were aiming for face now. It probably lasted less than a minute, but it felt endless, new shocks of pain continually beating through him like a rhythm. It might as well be endless when you're not strong enough to fight back. "You're a waste of skin you disgusting fag." Then there were hands on his neck and he was coughing and gasping for air, weakly trying to pull the hands off as they pressed deeper and he felt like he was choking on the bones of his own throat. He must've looked like he was about to die or pass out because they pulled back, and with a few more kicks to his ribs and spits on his face, they were leaving. "Maybe he'll finish it off himself so we don't have to get our hands dirty, he should know now he doesn't deserve to live- to be a man."_

Jean pulled himself to his knees, shaking and crying out as the movement shot sharp pain through his ribs, making him feel nauseous. When they'd been gone a few moments Jean let himself cry, tried not to hate himself. _They were the bad ones, they were full of hate.. Jean was just-_ he hiccupped, hearing the crunch of boots coming towards him through the snow. He bit his quivering lip, stiffening and trying to stop the tears. Did they must've come back to finish it? He didn't want to die-

"Hey." Jean blinked, that voice was different. Soft. So soft.

He looked up, and there was a boy about his age and beautiful; kind face spattered with freckles, his entire body framed by sun, sun Jean had sworn was shadowed by cloud and snow just seconds ago- it almost made him look like-

"God?" Jean mumbled out loud, his voice scratchy and flat.

There was a soft hum, almost like a laugh. "No, not god. Come with me." The boy murmured, holding a hand out to him.

Looking up at him in shock, Jean felt another tear slide down his cheek, the boy may as well have been god, he was a lifeline for Jean now. Jean weakly took his hand, wincing as raising his arm caused more pain. "A-are you sure?" He rasped, the boy seemed to wince with him when he noticed Jean's pain. He quickly wiped Jean's tears with his sleeve so they wouldn't be cold on his face.

"Mhm. You need help and I'm here, can't leave you here all beat up in the cold." The boy said, kneeling and wrapping his free arm around Jean's shoulders and that was that. "Try to stand with me on 3 okay?"

Now they were walking to the boys' house which apparently wasn't far from here and Jean was glad. The boy stopped for a moment as a particularly harsh shiver rippled through Jean. He sighed and let go of Jean's hand for a moment, helping him to lean against a wall before taking off his own jacket. "You're freezing" He mumbled, pulling the jacket around Jean as gently as he could and fitting his arms through even though the jacket was a bit small on the taller boy.

"Don't- you'll be cold." Jean protested but the boy shook his head and wrapped his arm around Jean again, holding him close to share heat. "You've been without a jacket for too long, I'll be fine until we get home." Jean shivered again but now it might've been at the feeling of having the jacket and the boys' warm hands on him. It felt healing, he couldn't believe how lucky he was that someone had come to his aid, especially someone so gentle. The boy intertwined their fingers, trying to cover as much of Jean from the cold as possible as they slowly shuffled to Marco's place.

"My name is Marco by the way." The boy said quietly. "And we're almost home."

"Marco." Jean repeated to himself, voice sounding a little less wrecked now. "I'm Jean. I can't- I don't know how to… thank you." He sighed. "Just yeah- thanks for this, I uh, don't know what I would've done." He mumbled. He wasn't used to being so vulnerable in front of a stranger.

"Its nothing." Marco shrugged honestly. "Its just not my nature to leave someone cold and hurt in the snow. We can get you to a hospital soon and-"

"No! please don't-" Marco's eyebrows furrowed and it looked like he was gonna fight Jean on this. "Jean-"

"I- sorry, its just, my ma works at the hospital, don't want her to see me like this." He muttered and Marco's expression softened as he started walking them up to an apartment complex that must've been his.

"Alright- maybe. We'll see what I can do for you but if you need real help I might make you go. Is there anyone I should call for help? Family? Friends? Anyone who should know?"

"Friends maybe, but could we wait a bit to tell them? I don't want them to worry. Don't want ma to worry and I probably won't see her until next week. Maybe she doesn't have to know. She'll have a god damn heart attack."

"Maybe they should be worried. How did you get into this mess?" Marco asked and Jean just blanched. Marco decided to leave it alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Marco says as they walk through his door is that they need to get Jean out of his clothes. Jean froze and felt his cheeks heat against his will before Marco continued on. "Those wet things won't do- we need you warmed up." Right, right. Jean was hurt and freezing and this guy was really nice. Of course.

Marco quickly disappeared into his room and came back with some clothes. "Okay here, this pajama shirt is too big for me so it should fit you, and these sweats should be good and.. um- oh right, gimmie a sec-" Marco left again for a moment and Jean took the opportunity to check his surroundings. The apartment was small, but nice. Cozy- warm. It looked lived in, but still neat. Marco returned with a new package of boxers. "And underwear." He muttered, looking a little embarrassed. "Come, the bathroom is here." He practically herded Jean into the bathroom. "Change. Get warm."

Jean looked around the clean little room, putting the clothes down on the counter. He went to lift his shirt up and let out a sharp cry when pain shot through him. "Fuck!"

The doorknob jostled and Marco came barging in immediately. "What is it! Are you okay!" He must've been waiting by the door. The tips of Jean's ears went pink.

"I'm fine. Just.. having difficulties changing." He muttered.

"Oh." Marco breathed. "That's fine, I can help." Jean swallowed.

"I'd appreciate that."

"Alright-uh, here." Marco stepped towards him, taking the hem of Jean's shirt and lifting slowly, trying to pull it off him without causing too much movement of his torso or arms. Jean hissed a little, but it wasn't like the cry of pain from before. Marco's expression turned pained when the shirt came off, the bruises going up and down Jean's sides looked pretty bad. His hand instinctively went to touch his waist and Jean winced. "Sorry." He looked over the rest of Jean and sighed, he looked like he was concentrating really hard on something. "Okay, now your jeans." Marco murmured, his lips turning to a firm line as he quickly started undoing Jean's belt, making Jean squawk and jump back.

"I! I can do that part myself." He sputtered, having another boys' hands that close to his junk would take his brain places it didn't need to go right now. Jean reached down and popped his buttons and undid his fly while Marco watched his hands. Jean didn't know if that was any better for his poor brain. "Okay, um... keep going." He said quietly and Marco nodded, lowering himself a bit to pull Jean's jeans down and helping him step out of them. Marco tilted his head and blinked hard, staring at Jean's boxers as he realized what came next.

"Uhhh." It was the first time he's seen Marco look completely dumbstruck.

"I can do these myself." Jean shyly mumbled, hovering his hands over his boxers.

"Won't it hurt?"

"Yeah but I'll live."

"I can... you don't have to hurt yourself."

"And you don't have to be the first poor soul to see my junk." Jean chuckled before wincing as he realized what he just said. "Uh, just turn around." Marco had a weird look on his face but did as asked. Jean groaned in pain as he bent down to pull off his boxers and he saw Marco visibly stopping himself from turning around. Jean quickly pulled on the new pair with another hiss of pain.

"Are you done yet?" He could hear the frown in Marco's voice.

"All covered, you can turn around again."

"Good." Marco sighed. "Now pants." Marco grabbed his sweatpants and kneeled in front of Jean, letting him step into them and looking up at him as he pulled them up to fit snugly on his hips. Jean shivered; why did this boy have to keep getting into positions that made his brain short circuit?

"Hm, maybe we should leave your shirt off actually." Jean sucked in a breath and cocked a brow. Was this guy- "Need to check out those wounds a little more for sure." Ah. Right.


End file.
